


The Angel who Lives in the Dark

by HardNoctLife



Series: Bonus Content for Finished Fics [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Consent, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Trauma, Rape Recovery, Relationship(s), Romance, Sequel, Sharing a Bed, Trauma, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-27 23:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20054128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/pseuds/HardNoctLife
Summary: Major spoilers for The Daemons that Live in the Dark - this is a bonus short story continuing from the end of the fic so I highly recommend reading that story first.After surviving unspeakable horrors in the World of Ruin, Prompto begins to recover from his trauma. All this time, Prompto never put a name on his feelings, but there has been someone who has been living in darkness for far longer who is willing to show him the light.





	1. So This is Love

**Author's Note:**

> Blame Mysterious Bean (again) for putting this idea in my head. We all want some fluffy good feelings after Daemons, so in celebration of hitting 69 kudos, here's some bonus content for y'all.

It was late on a Thursday night (or early on a Friday, depending on how you looked at it) and the bar was mostly empty, save for the two men in Kingsglaive uniforms sitting at the counter. Claudia, the bartender, looked to them in question, empty beer glasses drawing her eye. Gladiolus Amicitia shook his head, the room swimming. They’d had more than enough and would probably be regretting it in the morning when they had to report for training at 0800 hours.

“So. You and Iggy…what’s going on there?”

It had taken all the alcohol Gladio could handle to work up the courage to broach the subject with his friend.

It had been two years, after all—since _that_ day—and about a year and a half since Prompto Argentum had moved in with their mutual friend, Ignis Scientia, and as they grew more comfortable around one another, they became less subtle with their physical affection. There were hand holds, and murmured ‘dears’ and ‘babes,’ and cuddles on the couch. Gladio had taken Prompto to the Wet Whistle to celebrate how far Prompto had come, an act of defiance to where it all began.

Prompto knew it was only a matter of time before _someone_ asked about him and Ignis.

First, they had spit on the memory of General Malcolm Coluber’s sexual assault of Prompto, and toasted to a fresh start.

_I’m not afraid, not anymore._

Prompto had finally decided to rejoin the Kingsglaive after completing his latest project for the Refugee Assistance and Resettlement Initiative, or RARI, as an independent contractor. By enlisting in the Kingsglaive he was afforded more opportunities and resources to help refugees in need, something he was growing more and more passionate about.

The Glaive had welcomed him back with open arms—especially Gladio and Ignis. As promised, his friends had been with him every step of the way through his recovery. Everything he had accomplished wouldn’t have been possible without their support.

Now, Prompto clutched the empty glass as he considered Gladio’s question, leaning tattooed forearms heavily onto the polished wood. “We’re close, you know? But neither one of us want to put a label on it. I’m happy with the way things are.”

“So, fuck buddies, or—”

Prompto made a face, and Gladio laughed.

“Hey, it’s a valid question. Besides, I’m pretty sure my little sis has a huge crush on you, so I gotta get the down and dirty.” Prompto groaned loudly, setting his cup in front of him with a _clink_. He’d known about Iris’s growing attachment to him from his time spent training with her, the young woman giving him heart eyes any time they were alone together (which he had been vehemently ignoring).

“Sex is…” _complicated_, Prompto mused, unable to put his feelings into words.

It had taken months after he had been released from Formouth Garrison before he had been able to even hug people without setting off a panic attack, images of being beaten and brutally raped forever burned into the backs of his eyelids. Day by day, things had gotten easier, and he came to enjoy the comb of Ignis’s fingers through his hair, and the clasped hands, and especially falling asleep in his arms. He dreamed more and had fewer nightmares when Ignis was around; the blind man had become his anchor in a stormy sea.

But, beyond that? Prompto didn’t have the desire for anything more, and Ignis never pushed or pressured him. If he had to define their ‘relationship’ it would be friends with skinship. 

“Sex is out of the question. I doubt Ignis even sees me like that,” Prompto admitted, and he lifted his glass to his lips, only to remember it was empty.

_Besides, we both love the same person—so it would be weird to become romantically involved, right?_

Gladio arched an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Have you tried?”

“_Gladio_,” Prompto whined, mortified. He felt his face flush and his companion raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. The blond could already feel the pounding of a headache between his temples and resisted the urge to look at his watch for the time.

“I’m not pushing you—I’m just saying. You’ve been doing good lately. Maybe it’s just the next step in moving on.”

Prompto thought about it, an uneasy feeling unrelated to the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed settling in his stomach. Just the thought of being intimate with another person made him want to vomit.

“Don’t get any ideas when it comes to Iris though—she’s still too young,” the man huffed. Prompto couldn’t resist rolling his eyes.

“_Dude_, she’s like my little sister, there’s _no way_ that’s happening, I swear.” There was a nod of approval from the Shield.

“Good. Keep it that way, blondie.”

“Last call, guys!” Claudia yelled out, already wiping down the countertop in preparation of closing. Prompto and Gladio both slid off their stools, and the larger of the two wrapped a strong arm around Prompto’s shoulders, squeezing slightly.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

“What a gentleman,” Prompto giggled as he struggled to take careful steps out the door under Gladio’s guidance.

“Ignis would kill me if I didn’t.”

Prompto let the words sink in as they strolled out the door, the unsettling feeling intensifying.

* * *

Ignis was sitting on the couch when Prompto strolled through the door. He had knocked first—_tap-tap-tap_—and saw Ignis’s head turn when he entered despite the man being unable to see him, a smile resting easily on Ignis’s lips.

“Welcome home,” Ignis greeted. He paused the audio book he had been listening to and rose, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, hair unkempt. Prompto paused in the doorway to scan him, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

_Huh_.

He’d never really thought about how attractive Ignis was—objectively speaking, of course, because bros could totally check out their bros—_objectively_—damnit!

“How is Gladio?” Ignis inquired as he gathered his things.

“Good—drunk. We’re going to regret it in…” Prompto pulled his phone out, glancing down. “…about four hours.” Ignis laughed, and the musical quality of it released another flight of butterflies in his abdomen, heart thudding into his ribs. Prompto frowned.

You know how you never think about seeing yellow cars until someone points them out? And then suddenly, you’re seeing them everywhere? _Yeah._

_Damnit, Gladio._

“I also have some duties to attend to in the morning. Shall we?”

Prompto balked. Sleeping with Ignis was totally normal. He’d been sharing a bed with him for the better part of a year without batting an eye, and yet—he’d never really considered how it looked or what it meant to others until Gladio had asked about their relationship status.

“I’m—uh—gonna sleep in the other room tonight.” Prompto blurted it out before he could think too hard, and cringed when Ignis’s head tilted slightly, perplexed.

Why did Prompto feel guilty now? They most definitely were _not_ dating. Him sleeping in his own bed—like a fucking _adult_—should be totally acceptable. Expected, even. It had been two years. He should be able to handle being alone now…right?

“Very well,” Ignis agreed slowly. Prompto couldn’t tell if his sudden declaration had upset his friend or not, and he stood frozen, wringing his hands anxiously.

_Shit. _

“Okay then—good night!” Prompto tried to sound at ease, but his voice squeaked nervously. Embarrassed, he rushed through the combined kitchen and living area and down the hall into the guest room he hadn’t used in months, closing the door a little too firmly behind him. The blond pressed his back to it and leaned his head back with a muted groan, smacking a hand over his face.

_Real smooth, Prompto._

When he turned off the light and climbed into bed, he listened to the familiar sound of Ignis’s bedtime ritual in the bathroom across the hall—the water turning on and off as he brushed his teeth, the toilet eventually flushing, the barely audible footsteps as the man padded into his bedroom, and the distinct creak of his mattress when he finally laid down.

Prompto laid awake long after the apartment had gone still, blinking up at the ceiling in the dark.

The next thing he knew, his alarm was going off, and he hadn’t slept a wink.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ Prompto thought. The answer lurked at the edge of his thoughts, but he quickly hid it behind a wall, unable to accept the simple truth—

He was hopelessly in love with Ignis Scientia.

* * *

Prompto felt like he had been hit by a truck, and judging by Gladio’s dead-eyed expression, the Shield wasn’t doing much better. Iris, on the other hand, looked perky and energetic as always, practically bouncing in-between them as the three stood in line for roll call.

Friday was the designated sparring day for their unit, and the Kingsglaive members assembled in the training hall were at attention, staring straight ahead as Marshal Cor Leonis read names off a list. Once everyone was accounted for, they broke into pairs, Prompto and Iris automatically gravitating towards one another like they had been for months. Although Prompto had only recently rejoined the military force, Iris had been his partner for over a year. She was much tougher than she looked, and they both had benefited from the practice. The sharpshooter ignored the snickers and looks he received from some of the Glaives he didn’t know very well—Iris was the only woman in their squad, and the youngest, which meant she was often underestimated, even as Gladio’s sister. It also meant Prompto was looked down upon for ‘fighting a girl,’ and whatever other sexist notions men seemed to believe. 

But he didn’t give a single fuck what anyone else thought.

They warmed up in their corner of the room, rolling and stretching on the mats. When they were ready, they began to go through the basic motions for tosses and throws, continuing seamlessly into their drills. It didn’t take long before they were working up a sweat, and Prompto fought off dizziness from his hangover, nausea making it difficult to stand at times.

Iris was quick and technical, and she worked twice as hard because she knew she had something to prove. Prompto struggled to keep up, head pounding, and probably looked like he was retreating most of the time when in actuality he was trying not to vomit all over his friend—_that_ would be beyond embarrassing.

At one point, Iris stopped, fists still raised in a defensive posture, and laughed. “Drink too much with Gladdy last night? I heard him come in late.”

Prompto was bent over, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath. “Yeah,” he groaned. “And I didn’t sleep well either.”

Iris paused, walking over to a nearby bench where she had placed a towel and water bottle. Taking a sip, she tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Want to grab breakfast after this? Coffee and food should perk you right up.”

“That sounds great,” Prompto agreed. Truth be told, he wasn’t in a rush to go back to his apartment. He’d left without saying goodbye to Ignis, forgoing any food to avoid an awkward conversation. He still hadn’t figured out what he would say—if anything—about his weird behavior from the night before. A little extra time to settle his head and stomach might be just what he needed.

“Sweet, it’s a date!” she said cheerfully. Prompto smiled even as he resisted the urge to cringe. Okay, so he really should have corrected her then and there, but she just looked _so_ happy—who was he to crush her hopes and dreams? Like any nineteen-year-old, her feelings would fade over time and she would move on. No need to be cruel or make things weird between them. At least, that’s what he told himself.

When their session finally ended (without Prompto vomiting, although he came close a handful of times), they went their separate ways to shower. The blond went to his corner of the room, away from the other Glaives, but voices were carrying amongst the steam and he perked his ears up when he heard something troubling.

“Amicitia’s little sis is so hot, man. I bet she’d be a good fuck.”

“Dude, she’s like, nineteen!” There was laughter.

“You know he likes them young and stupid. Besides, virgins are more fun, they have no idea what to expect. Makes them easier to please.”

“Or order around,” one added. 

Prompto felt his skin crawl, anger flashing hotter than the water that pelted his bare skin.

“Yeah, but you know you’d have to get around the big bad Shield.”

“Pfft, I’m not scared of him. Damn, I bet her pussy is so tight. I’d love to—”

Prompto shoved his head under the stream of water to drown out whatever was said next, his heart beating wildly in-between his lungs. After taking a deep breath, he wrenched the nozzles to the off position and wrapped a towel furiously around his hips, stomping to the other side of the room to where the three Glaives were busy talking.

“_Hey_,” he growled, eyes narrowing dangerously. Their eyes snapped over at the interruption, and one of them had the sense to look guilty. The other two weren’t quite as bright, lazy smirks curling on their lips. “Kindly shut the fuck up. That’s one of your comrades you’re talking about.” Prompto’s arms were shaking, hands curling into fists as adrenaline surged through his veins.

“Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop,” the one with the biggest smirk reprimanded.

“Yeah, it’s none of your business,” another quipped.

“Iris is my friend, so yeah, it _is_ my fucking business. Have a little respect.”

“Aw, that’s cute, he wants her for himself guys!”

“_What_, Argentum? You gonna beat us up, pip-squeak?” the first laughed, and the other two chuckled in support.

“No.” Prompto’s voice dropped low and dangerous, catching their attention. “I’ll put a bullet through your skull before you even see me coming.” It was his turn to smirk—violent and challenging, a look honed from years of trauma and darkness. Three stunned faces stared back at him, the color draining from them. Turning on his heel abruptly, Prompto grabbed his bag and left for the changing room, silence lingering in his wake.

* * *

“Feeling a little better?” Iris asked. Prompto had his head laid back against the cushioned seat of the booth they shared, empty plate and coffee mug on the table in front of him. He gave a satisfied groan as Iris placed her head in her hands, smiling.

“One thousand percent better. Thanks for this. It’s a shame Gladio couldn’t join us,” he said. Iris gave a nonchalant shrug, and Prompto caught the flutter of her eyelashes.

“Not _that_ much of a shame though, right?” Her lips pursed a little, pouty.

_Hoo boy. Be careful, Prompto. She really is into you._

“You know I don’t mean it like that.” He suddenly thought back to the three Glaives in the locker room and grit his teeth. “Hey, uh, not to pry or anything, but have any of the other Glaives said anything to you? Like, weird?”

“Weird? How so?” she perked up a little, eyebrows dipping in concern. It made her look like the spitting image of Gladio and he bit back the urge to laugh.

“Oh, you know, like… _guy_ stuff. Hitting on you, or…” Prompto spread his hands, flustered. _Ya know, making you uncomfortable? Trying to get you alone? Harassing you?_ Iris gave a slow blink, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

_Wait—what did I do now?_

“Prompto, are you wondering if another guy has asked me out? Because the answer is no. Why, you interested?”

Prompto gaped at her blatant call out, face flushing as red as a Lucian tomato. “No! I mean—you’re my _friend_, and I like you, I just wanted to make sure no one was giving you a hard time, that’s all.” His voice had risen an octave in his distress, and he tried to get a better hold on the conversation only to see Iris’s frown return, deeper and more severe than before. She crossed her arms over her chest in typical Amicitia fashion.

“You know I can take care of myself. I’m not some weak pushover.” Prompto heaved a heavy sigh. He needed _way_ more coffee for this conversation.

“I _know_ that, Iris. Why else would I be training with you?”

“As opposed to a guy, you mean?” her voice was flat and pointed.

_Shit. Abort, abort! _

“No!” He hesitated, trying to think carefully about his word choice. “No,” he said, firmer. “I _care_ about you, Iris. And it really pisses me off when other guys don’t take you seriously, or think that they can walk all over you just because you’re a woman. I know you can handle it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Just—be careful, okay?”

Iris’s eyes softened, her familiar smile blossoming on her face. “You’re really sweet, you know that? I’m glad that we’re in the same unit together. Thanks for looking out for me, Prompto.”

_Whew, nice save._ He was sweating.

Before Prompto could react, Iris was leaning across the table to plant a kiss on his cheek. The sharpshooter froze, unsure what the protocol was for something like this, and was stuck with his mouth hanging open as she flounced out of the diner, humming. He listened to the gentle ring of the door’s bells as it swung closed behind her, placing his head on the counter once Iris had gone.

_Damnit. I fucked that one up, didn’t I?_

Prompto sat there for a while longer, unsure how he had messed up so royally—first with Ignis, and now with Iris.

“I’m really not cut out for this,” he mumbled to no one except himself.

* * *

Prompto was running out of excuses to avoid going home. He’d already perused all the shops around the neighborhood, and even stopped to grab a drink at the Wet Whistle.

“A little early for you, huh? Hair of the dog, much?” Claudia had inquired.

_Nah, just ignoring my very not-boyfriend and trying not to lead on my best friend’s little sister and failing at both. How about you?_

He had one drink, tipped well, and continued walking the streets until he got bored.

It was mid-afternoon before he ventured back into the apartment, and lo and behold, Ignis was home, already back from his meetings for the day. Prompto took his shoes off in the entryway and watched the blind man in the kitchen as he prepped for dinner, hands moving deliberately over every utensil and ingredient.

“I was wondering when you would be home. You didn’t answer my text message,” Ignis murmured. His keen ears had picked up on the sound of the key in the lock and Prompto’s half-hearted attempts at muffling his footsteps.

“Oh—sorry, I must have missed it,” Prompto apologized. In reality, he had skimmed it at the bar, unable to muster the courage to craft a suitably casual response.

_Dinner as usual?_ It had read.

_Ugh, I’m a bad human_, Prompto thought.

“Did your training run long?” It was an innocent enough question, but Prompto could tell that Ignis was worried about him. He didn’t usually pry into his affairs unless he had good reason.

“Oh, no, I just went out with Iris for a bit.” _And then stalled for several hours afterwards so I wouldn’t have to face you and my feelings—_but he wasn’t about to mention that part of the equation.

“Ah.” Ignis’s short answer made Prompto uneasy. It wasn’t quite disapproving, but it wasn’t enthusiastic either. Was he mad at him? Prompto _had_ left without saying goodbye that morning.

_This is a disaster. _

“Do you need help with dinner?” Prompto meandered into the room to sit at the island where Ignis was in the midst of chopping vegetables.

“I think I have a handle on things here—although I could use your assistance in shaving this evening,” Ignis admitted.

“O-oh, yeah, sure, no problem,” Prompto said in a rush. He peered at Ignis’s face, noting the shadowy stubble along his chin. Although Ignis was fairly independent, there were still some things he preferred to have help with. It had only taken him one slipup to add shaving to the short list of tasks for which he needed a hand with, and Prompto was happy to oblige.

Their conversation lulled for a while, Prompto merely observing as Ignis crafted their dinner. When he had finished, they ate in silence, the tension growing with each gentle clatter of silverware. Prompto hopped up to help clear the table and wash dishes as soon as they were done, eager to have something to do to take his mind off of things—

Like how fucking awkward the atmosphere in the apartment was now. He’d give anything to go back to how things used to be, before he had put a name to his feelings.

_Gladiolus Amicitia, you are a menace. I see where your sister gets it from now. _If Gladio could see how Prompto was acting he wouldn’t hesitate to point and laugh. Prompto hung his head from where he leaned over the sink, nibbling on his lower lip nervously.

“Prompto?”

The sharpshooter jumped, not having heard Ignis walk up behind him, dropping a plate into the soapy water in the basin.

“Y-yeah?” At least he hadn’t dropped it on the floor.

“Whenever is convenient…”

_Oh, right—shaving. I forgot already. _Wiping his hands on a dish towel, Prompto made a noise of confirmation.

“Now’s fine.” _A good a time as any to continue embarrassing myself._

Ignis gave a single nod before turning to walk towards the bathroom, and Prompto inhaled long and slow. He was acting like an inexperienced hormonal teenager and it was _painful_. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known Ignis for years—so why was it so _damn_ hard now? Prompto could only pray he’d be able to hold it together and get his emotions in check before Ignis concluded he had lost his mind.

Steeling himself, Prompto finally followed Ignis into the bathroom just off of the bedroom they shared—_used to_ share, Prompto amended. Ignis had already pulled out the shaving cream and straight razor and placed them on the counter. The blind man was sitting patiently, and Prompto took a moment to note his perfect posture, back ramrod straight and hands placed on knees. He stared blankly ahead with his grayed eyes, expectant.

Prompto had shaved Ignis’s face hundreds of times. He’d gotten quite good at it, actually—but that was before he had really _looked_ at Ignis. The gentle curves of his lips, and the length of his golden-brown eyelashes, or the perfect bone structure of his face—the way his sandy hair fell across his forehead when it was down, soft and begging to be touched.

Prompto’s hands were shaking as he sprayed the shaving cream into his bare hands, and he hoped Ignis would notice the way his fingers trembled as he spread it liberally over the man’s jaw. When he picked up the blade, he took a few extra seconds to focus on his task before kneeling, leaning in carefully to begin running the razor across Ignis’s chin. They were so close he could feel his gentle breaths, and Prompto sensed his skin growing hot.

Ignis spoke carefully, mouth tight to keep from jostling Prompto’s hands. “So, what did you and Iris get up to?”

Again, it was an innocent question, with no malice behind it, but Prompto’s heart jumped, and with it, so did his arm. Ignis winced as the razor bit into his skin with the motion, a thin line of red showing through the white of the foam.

“Oh—_shit_, Iggy, I’m sorry—let me get that—” Prompto tossed the razor into the sink, already panicking, and nearly tripped over himself as he scrambled to the cabinet for a washcloth. Once retrieved, he pressed it to the man’s face, grimacing guiltily.

“Quite alright, it was merely an accident.” Ignis’s voice was soothing, but it did nothing to calm Prompto’s nerves. “…is there something on your mind?”

Prompto inhaled a little too sharply and Ignis cocked his head. _Caught—red handed._

“Oh, uh, maybe.” Prompto’s mind was going one hundred miles per hour, trying to come up with a suitable explanation for why he was more jittery than a chocobo before a race. Ignis, Astrals bless him, waited with perfect poise, ever patient.

“It’s Iris. I overheard some Glaives talking about her.” Prompto’s face darkened and Ignis shifted slightly, sensing the change in his tone. “If Gladio finds out what they said…well, let’s just say _I_ was ready to fight them.”

“Ah, I see.” Ignis nodded, accepting the explanation. “Are you planning to fight for her honor?” There was a smile this time, and Prompto’s heart was sent galloping—the chocobo released from its stable. He picked up the razor once more and continued with the shave, a little more collected this time around.

“I would if she would let me, but you know how those Amicitias are.” Ignis chuckled in commiseration.

“Stubborn to their core.” Prompto laughed and the mood lifted. He finally felt he could breathe again, and was able to make quick work of the rest of Ignis’s face without any further slip ups. The scratch from the blade wasn’t as noticeable once it stopped bleeding, and Prompto was grateful. He was getting up to exit the bathroom, feeling more like himself, when Ignis spoke again.

“I think it’s wonderful that you’re spending more time out of the house. I know in particular that Iris is most grateful for your company.” There was a pause, and Prompto stood in the doorway as Ignis’s statement sent his world askew, gripping the knob as if to anchor himself. “It does my heart good to see you putting yourself out there for others. Know that, in everything you do, you have my support.”

Prompto knew he should say something back. Maybe, _aww, thanks, Iggy _or _you don’t need to worry about me_, but all he could do was stare in wonder, pulse skipping every so often.

“Yeah—you too.” Prompto hurried out and into the guest bedroom, shutting the door.

There was a minute where he scarcely breathed—then he groaned.

“_You too?” _

All semblance of equilibrium vanishing, he flopped face down onto the bed and smothered his face into the pillows miserably, irrevocably at a loss.


	2. Walking the Wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Do you feel the same when I'm away from you? _  
_Do you know the line that I'd walk for you?_  
_We could turn around, or we could give it up_  
_But we'll take what comes, take what comes_  
_Oh, the storm is raging against us now_  
_If you're afraid of falling, then don't look down_  
_But we took the step, and we took the leap_  
_And we'll take what comes, take what comes"_  
\- "Walking the Wire" by Imagine Dragons

The week that followed was the longest of Prompto’s short life. He didn’t sleep, even as he stubbornly insisted on retiring to the guest room every night. He took Ignis’s lack of response to the abrupt change in their arrangement as a sign that he had been right all along—his friend really had just been trying to be supportive of his recovery, sacrificing his own privacy and personal life for Prompto’s sake.

It made him feel like shit, and he found himself overcorrecting in the extreme—there were fewer casual touches as they passed each other in the apartment, no pet names. Prompto tried to establish a new normal, but grogginess made him miserable, and to avoid taking out his crankiness on his roommate, he stayed away.

Iris was more than happy to serve as Prompto’s refuge, and he found himself spending more time with the younger Amicitia, even though he knew it wasn’t doing anything to help squash the feelings she harbored for him. It was just so _easy_ to be around her, and he genuinely enjoyed her company, so Prompto agreed to every suggested breakfast date and extra training session, and left feeling guilty afterwards.

Things came to a head on the following Friday. Exhausted from a string of sleepless nights, Prompto _finally_ got some shut eye—and slept through his alarm in the process.

When he blinked awake to see that the clock on his beside table read 7:45 he flew out of bed, frantically searching for clothes, tossing shirts and pants out of his dresser drawers in a flurry of panic.

“Coffee?” Ignis mused from where he sat at the kitchen table when Prompto eventually emerged, hair disheveled.

“No time,” the blond rasped as he hurried to pull on his boots, not bothering to tie them. “Bye, Iggy!”

He ran to the Kingsglaive base camp and made it in ten minutes flat, setting a new personal record for his fastest mile. When he entered the training hall, breathless and heaving, the Glaives had already started their warmup exercises. Cor cast him an appraising glance from where he stood in the corner.

“Ah, Prompto. Good of you to join us.”

“Sorry, sir, I overslept…” Prompto’s explanation dropped off as his eyes scanned the room and found Iris. It wasn’t seeing her that made him pause though, but rather seeing who she was with. It was none other than asshole number-one that he had encountered in the showers from the previous week, complete with a dashing smile that only looked predatory in a way that other men would understand.

_Oh, don’t mind me, I’m completely harmless until you turn your back! _

Prompto immediately felt sick.

“You can spar with me—Venias is out sick today so our numbers are uneven,” Cor offered.

_Great_. Prompto couldn’t exactly say no to the Marshal, so he reluctantly began to go through his usual routine with Cor, eyes cutting across the room at every opportunity to where Iris was sparring with her new partner. At one point, his gaze met the arrogant Glaive’s, and the man shot back a cocky smile, making the hair on the back of Prompto’s neck bristle.

_Oh, _hell_ no. _

As soon as their training session ended, Prompto made a bee line for Iris, jaw clenching as the man she was with casually wrapped an arm around her. He could see her glance up at the Glaive, laughing and smiling, completely unaware that she was a fish swimming alongside a shark. Gladio had already gone into the locker room (thank the gods) which meant it was up to Prompto. Biding his time, he trailed them into the hallway, stopping when he heard the man speak.

“Hey, so I was wondering, maybe you’d like to hang out sometime? Y’know, _outside_ of work?” Iris giggled as the man brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and Prompto saw red, barely able to keep himself from lunging for the Glaive’s throat.

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, a blush coloring her cheeks.

Prompto nearly groaned out loud. _C’mon Iris, you’re not this dumb!_

The blond leaned against the wall and glowered with his arms tucked under his armpits as the two made small talk. When the man finally walked off, Prompto immediately stepped forward to grab Iris before she could leave for the locker room.

“Oh, hey sleepy head—”

“That guy is bad news,” Prompto said in a rush. Iris scowled, tugging her arm roughly out of Prompto’s reach.

“Hello to you too!” she said in annoyance.

“No, Iris, _listen_—that guy only wants one thing, all right? Stay away from him.” Prompto remained insistent even as Iris rolled her eyes at him, placing her hands on her hips.

“Who are you, my brother? Harris is harmless. If you’re jealous, then—”

“Open your eyes!” Prompto snapped, heat flushing his body as anger overwhelmed him. He watched as Iris flinched backwards in alarm, but words were already leaving his mouth and he couldn’t stop them. “You’re not a naïve little girl anymore! There are people out there who would hurt you without hesitating and you can’t afford to let your guard down!”

A dark alleyway jumped into his mind—blood splattered on brick—the chilling, deep laugh of men whose faces were shadowed in the dark. Prompto squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his hands to grab his hair roughly, chest heaving with agonizing breaths.

“P-Prompto?” When Prompto opened his eyes again, there were tears in Iris’s eyes. 

“If you don’t stay away from him, I’m going to get Gladio involved,” Prompto hissed, vicious. Iris’s expression contorted, going from concerned to furious, tears now streaming down her face. He knew it was a low blow, but what choice did he have? He had to protect her—

He _had_ to.

Very quietly, Iris leveled Prompto with her gaze, putting all the power and clout of the Amicitia line behind it.

Voice never wavering, she murmured: “Fuck you.”

It felt like a slap to the face, but Prompto didn’t react, eyes trained on the ground. He listened as Iris stormed off, her sobs echoing on the tile floor as she fled. Once he was sure she was out of earshot, he leaned against the wall and slid down to the ground with a defeated sigh. Prompto placed his head on his knees, memories creeping uninvited behind his eyelids.

* * *

Prompto slammed the door shut when he got home, body taut and itching to hit something. He made his way into the kitchen like a storm cloud, cabinets banging as he scrounged for food, stomach aching with hunger made more intense with rage. Carelessly, he pulled a glass off a shelf. It slid through his shaking hand and went tumbling towards the floor, shattering even as he reached out desperately to catch it. The sharpshooter cursed—_loudly_ and angrily—kicking a stool for good measure and sending it flying. It landed with a _crash_ against the wall.

He turned in annoyance to search for a broom and saw Ignis standing as still as a statue in the hallway, listening.

_Fuck._

“Prompto?” His tone was gentle and unassuming. For some reason, it hurt worse than if he had yelled.

“H-hey.” Prompto’s breathing was rapid again, anxiety still high from his argument with Iris. He knew he was on the verge of exploding, and he clung to the edge of the nearest countertop, barely able to contain the wave of emotions that now threatened to drown him. 

Ignis took a step into the kitchen. Every muscle in Prompto’s body contracted and he had to resist the urge to run.

“You’re safe here. Talk to me.”

Ignis always knew.

Prompto nearly crumpled, his knees going weak as he watched Ignis approach, the blind man relaxed and trusting in spite of the alarming crashes and bangs he had heard.

_I don’t deserve your kindness._

“I…” Prompto didn’t know how to respond. Imminent sobs choked him, making his throat constrict. He pressed his head to the table, seeking reprieve in its cool surface while noting the distinct aura of body heat that drew close to his side.

Ignis’s hand came to rest on the back of his head, firm, yet comforting. Prompto bit down hard to keep from crying out.

“Prompto, _please_. I can only assist you if you communicate with me.”

Prompto hated how desperate he sounded.

_You don’t deserve this pain. You’ve suffered enough already because of me._

“I _can’t_,” Prompto blubbered, despising how his breath hitched, tears escaping. Ignis’s fingers laced through the golden tufts on top of Prompto’s head.

“Take your time.” Prompto focused on his breathing, trying to draw in evenly before blowing out all the air in his lungs. Ignis stood over him attentively, waiting until he was ready.

“Just when I think I’m doing good—something happens. Why is everything so _fucking_ difficult now? Why can’t I just be _normal_?” Prompto moaned as he pressed himself upright. Ignis stood back to give him room, hand falling back to his side.

“You’ve been through a lot. You needn’t be so hard—”

“So have you!” Prompto interrupted, hands waving wildly out of habit. “But you’re not falling apart! You’re—_perfect_!” Ignis blinked, more of a habit than a necessity.

“I am hardly perfect,” Ignis said quietly, smile sad. “Come sit down. We can talk through it together.”

With Ignis’s invitation, Prompto felt some of the fight go out of him. Empty and aching, he allowed his friend to guide him to the couch where they sat, Prompto fiddling with a loose string on his uniform as Ignis reclined among the pillows.

“What happened?” Ignis inquired.

Prompto debated, unsure at first.

“I told Iris to stay away from one of the Glaives who I overheard talking about her. She didn’t really take it well. I threatened to get Gladio involved.” Ignis hummed. “…I made her cry, Iggy. And—I don’t know, it just brought back…” Prompto didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to.

There was silence.

“Perhaps it would be easier to tell her how you feel. Maybe then she would understand—on your own time, of course.”

Prompto looked over at Ignis, sighing.

“I _did _tell her, Iggy! I told her I cared about her. It doesn’t help that she has a huge crush on me. Man, I feel like such a jerk.” Prompto flopped back on the couch and threw his arms over his face, feet kicking out to brush Ignis’s thigh.

There was a brief pause.

“Certainly, your mutually shared affections would help in this situation…? Perhaps I have misunderstood, but if you two wish to be together, what seems to be the problem?”

Prompto peeked in-between his fingers at Ignis’s confused expression, the man’s lips turned down in a frown. Sitting up slowly, Prompto shook his head—then laughed.

“Ignis—you think I _like _like Iris?” He snorted a giggle. “Gods, she’s _Gladio’s_ sister, there no way, man!”

“Ah, forgive me…” For once, Ignis was the one left speechless and Prompto stared in awe, gears in his mind slowly turning. “I merely thought, based on recent events—” Ignis ran a hand through his hair, unusually flustered, sending perfectly gelled strands askew. 

_Recent events?_

Something finally clicked in Prompto’s brain as he stared at his friend.

—_because you’re not sharing a bed with me_, he meant.

“So…you mean to say you have no interest in pursuing Iris romantically?” Ignis prodded with an air of nonchalance that Prompto saw straight through—mostly because Prompto had tried to emulate the same level of uncaring in countless conversations (and failed).

Prompto’s heart began to pound so loudly in his chest that he feared Ignis would hear it. For once, he was glad for his friend’s blindness. It meant Ignis couldn’t see the way his mouth dropped open or the rich crimson flush that shot across his cheeks. After a moment’s hesitation, Prompto scooted forward, reaching out. His fingers hovered just over Ignis’s forearm, indecision holding him back. The blind man sat, unmoving, lips pressed into a line.

_Don’t be stupid, Prompto. It can’t be what you think—can it?_

Ignis’s hand came across his body in slow motion, and Prompto held his breath as time seemed to stop. He tracked Ignis’s limb it all the way to his face, going cross-eyed when it came to rest on his jaw. Ignis was turning, fluid and smooth, torso tipping forward. Prompto didn’t pull away as their lips met, a sudden fluctuation in his stomach making him inhale sharply.

Ignis’s mouth was even softer than Prompto had imagined, and he found himself holding the kiss with child-like wonder, nearly forgetting to return the gesture. When he finally did, it was as if everything melted away, leaving only a pleasant warmth that curled through his chest, enfolding him like a blanket.

When Ignis pulled back slightly, they were knee-to-knee, noses almost touching. Ignis’s hands found Prompto’s and held them in his lap, squeezing.

The room was quiet.

“I cannot see you,” Ignis reminded him, eyelashes turning downwards in distress. “Would you tell me what you are thinking?”

_Holy shit. _Ignis Scientia _is nervous?_

Prompto’s heart skipped a beat as his mouth struggled to form words.

_How do I tell you everything that you mean to me?_

“I—” Prompto got tongue tied and spit out a sequence of unintelligible noises. Ignis began to move backwards, hands pulling free—

“No, no, no—!” Prompto protested, grabbing for the man’s wrists. The former advisor froze in trepidation, worry plain on his face. “Great—I’m great! I, uh, I was so worried—I’m—_fuck—” _Prompto groaned. “I’m really messing this up, but it’s not you, I promise!”

“Forgive my selfishness, but I simply couldn’t stand it any longer. It seems being unable to sleep has weakened my resolve, and for that I apologize. It was never my intent to make you uncomfortable.” Prompto gaped as Ignis shook his head apologetically. _He_ wasn’t able to sleep?

_That makes two of us._

“If you need to make other living arrangements, I would be happy to—”

“No!” Prompto interrupted emphatically. His fingers curled into the hem of Ignis’s shirt and the blind man’s head tilted to the side, curious—_hopeful_. “No—don’t—” He bit back tears. “Don’t leave me, Ignis.” Hearing the way his voice broke, Prompto leaned his head into Ignis’s chest and closed his eyes, heart buzzing like a bird trying to take flight. “I _like_ our ‘arrangement,’ okay? I’ve been miserable ever since I left your room. I haven’t been sleeping, I’m irritable, and everything just feels _wrong_. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

_I want to be with you._

Prompto felt the gentle rise and fall of Ignis’s ribs against his forehead, then the light caress of fingers along his neck, sliding around to pull his chin up.

Ignis was smiling—brilliant as the sun.

“Darling, haven’t I already told you? You are safe now. I’m not going anywhere—so long as you’ll have me.”

The sense of relief was like plunging into cold water, and Prompto threw his arms around Ignis on a whim. The man caught him with ease, sinking back into the cushions, and Prompto nuzzled against Ignis’s neck, grinning when the man planted another kiss on his forehead. They settled there, not speaking, soaking everything in.

Eventually, Prompto lifted his head.

“I was worried you wouldn’t want someone like me,” he admitted. Ignis listened, combing through Prompto’s hair as he talked. “Because…I’m not sure I can give you what you want—what you _need_.” The blond swallowed hard. If he was going to let Ignis down, he wanted to do it now before either of them got too invested.

“Prompto,” Ignis tutted lightly. “I _need_ your company and your gentle spirit. I want to see you happy, and to share the burden of life with someone I care for. Anything else is merely a bonus. Please, do not ever force yourself on my account. I would never forgive myself for adding to your suffering.”

It was the greatest kindness Ignis could have given him, and it brought the sharpshooter to tears.

“T-thanks,” he blubbered. Then, belatedly, “…but _do_ you want me?” His face was burning, but he _had_ to know.

“Oh, my love—” Ignis murmured, lips brushing over Prompto’s ear and trailing over the pulse that fluttered beneath his jaw, “Do not be mistaken, I want you in every sense.” Prompto felt a shiver undulate down his spine, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in years snaking its way between his legs.

Not trusting himself to speak, Prompto found Ignis’s mouth again, deepening their kiss with newfound passion. They continued that way, and for some time there was only the sound of their heavy breaths and muffled moans. Ignis was respectful, keeping his hands gripped tightly over Prompto’s hip bones, but Prompto could feel his need through their clothes, and the blond rocked against him, applying gentle friction.

“Ah—” Ignis gasped, head lolling back, and Prompto immediately attacked Ignis’s Adam’s apple with his mouth, relishing in his affirming sounds of pleasure.

Feeling bold, he slid one hand down, searching for the button on Ignis’s pants, but Ignis immediately jerked upright, deflecting Prompto’s grab with expert precision.

“Prompto,” he chided. “No need to rush.” Prompto heard the genuine concern and slowed, some of the blood flushing back into his head from where it had been diverted elsewhere.

Leave it to Ignis to be the rational one.

“How are you so selfless?” Prompto pouted, sliding his knees along either side of Ignis’s body. The blind man slumped down, patting Prompto’s thighs reassuringly from where he laid beneath him.

“It takes practice,” he joked, and Prompto immediately thought of Noctis, chuckling as a wave of nostalgia washed over them both.

Prompto played with the buttons on Ignis’s shirt then, lost in thought. “What is it?” Ignis pried after the silence had stretched long.

“I love you,” Prompto said abruptly, and it was as if a cloud had lifted, darkness scattering to the edges of his mind.

He felt lighter—_free_. 

Ignis, bringing both hands to clasp Prompto’s, pulled them to his face and kissed the backs of the blond’s knuckles, as gentle as a butterfly fanning its wings.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

“You were right,” Iris groaned.

“Oh, I know.” Prompto paused for dramatic effect. “Wait, what was I right about?” Iris punched him lightly in the shoulder from where she sat across the booth, shaking her head good naturedly. There was a constant stream of chatter as morning breakfast-goers ate around them, servers whisking to-and-fro past their table.

It had been a week since their big blow up, and after a few heartfelt text exchanges, they had agreed to meet after training to speak to each other in person. Iris had been the first to reach out, but Prompto had been quick to respond, relieved to finally clear the air between them. 

“Harris is a jerk.” Prompto nodded sagely, choosing not to rub it in even though he rightfully could have.

“Did he try to pull something on you?” he questioned, expression darkening. He watched as she shook her head more adamantly. 

“He got handsy and then got pissed when I told him to stop.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I should have listened to you in the first place. I’m sorry.”

It was Prompto’s turn to be apologetic. “No, I shouldn’t have flipped. You’re right, you’re an Amicitia—you can handle yourself. I just can’t help but be a little protective.” She gave him a winning smile as she brought her coffee mug to her lips.

“It’s all right. I forgive you. Friends again?”

“Friends,” Prompto agreed readily. He was in the midst of sipping his drink when Iris’s smile turned sly.

“So—you and Specs, huh? Why didn’t you just say so? I know when I’m outmatched.”

Prompto snorted his coffee in his surprise, hacking loudly. Heads turned, eyebrows raising as he continued to wheeze and sputter, trying to clear the burning liquid from his windpipe while Iris observed in horror.

“Oh no, sorry Prom!” Iris cringed, hands held up as if she wanted to help, but didn’t know how. He waved her away, tears blurring his vision as he bent over.

“It’s—fine—” Prompto gasped. He spent a few more minutes composing himself, clearing his throat awkwardly when he got his second wind. “Gladio told you?”

She looked bashful. “Yeah.” Iris twirled the spoon in front of her on the countertop, not meeting Prompto’s eye. “Honestly, I kind of suspected, but a girl can dream, ya know?” She blushed and Prompto felt his heart twinge.

“I’m hardly anyone’s dream guy,” he assured her.

_Ignis, on the other hand…_ He cleared his head with a shake.

“I know it probably sucks, but if it’s any consolation, you’re still my favorite Amicitia,” Prompto teased. Iris’s laugh carried, lifting both of their spirits.

“Thanks, Prompto. Really, I’m just glad that you’re here, and that you’re happy. All of us are.” She lifted her mug invitingly and Prompto raised his to hers, clinking the porcelain together in a toast. He felt his heart swell in his chest, filled to the brim with love and appreciation.

_I really am the luckiest guy in Eos. _

* * *

“C’mon, spill it,” Gladio urged.

“No—_no _way!” Prompto laughed, pushing against the Shield as Gladio wrapped a flexed arm around his neck.

The weather had turned bitterly cold, signaling that winter was in full force, but the two were warm within the walls of the Wet Whistle, comfortably buzzed from the alcohol in their bellies. It was another late night that had turned into an early morning, but Gladio wasn’t letting Prompto escape, no matter how much he insisted that Ignis was waiting for him.

“Listen, I _saw_ the way you walked into training this morning. There’s no denying that swagger, _trust me_.”

“Dude, shouldn’t you be worrying about your own personal life? Why are you so interested in mine?” Prompto demanded, shoving the larger man in protest. Gladio scoffed, releasing his friend to down the rest of his beer.

“I have no trouble getting any. _You_, on the other hand, have been with Iggy for months now and just started showing signs.” Gladio signaled to Claudia for another round of beers and the bartender immediately began to pour from the nearest tap.

“_Signs_? What am I, _ill_?” Prompto’s blue eyes rolled.

“Love sick, maybe. But nah, there’s no denying it. Anyone with experience can see it.” Gladio brought his head in towards Prompto’s, voice lowering as he smirked. “You finally fucked, didn’t you?” When Prompto’s freckles darkened from the red that flashed beneath them, Gladio’s face split into a wild grin. “Congrats, man, it’s about damn time.”

“Why do you have to be like this?” Prompto moaned, flopping his upper body across the bar languidly. Claudia raised an eyebrow in question as she set down their beers, but Gladio waved her away. Prompto was too busy wallowing in his embarrassment to hear the door swing open behind them.

“So?” Gladio kicked Prompto’s leg lightly. “How was it?”

Just as Prompto was about to say something along the lines of, _fuck you, it’s none of your business_, a lilting voice answered, worming its way between the two men.

“Superb.”

Prompto’s head whipped around to see Ignis, dressed in a thick coat and cane in hand, patiently leaning in the entryway. His heart did its signature excited backflip at the sight.

“Oh, heya Iggy, nice of you to join us,” Gladio chuckled. “Beer?”

“Another time. I have come to retrieve Prompto, as it is rather late.” _And I cannot sleep without him_, Prompto thought, but knew that Ignis wouldn’t admit. Hopping down off the bar stool, Prompto gave a wave to Claudia and patted Gladio on his biceps.

“See you later, big guy.”

“We’ll talk later,” Gladio shot back, and Prompto just sighed in acceptance, grateful to have Ignis as an excuse to put answering any more personal questions on hold.

Turning, he went to Ignis’s side, linking their elbows before guiding him out into the street, both of them bracing against the biting chill. They walked quickly, Ignis relying on Prompto to lead the way, footsteps never faltering in his implicit trust.

“I could kill him,” Ignis murmured when they were nearly home, breath forming a cloud.

“Gladio? He means well.” Prompto knew their friend was just excited for them. It was kind of sweet—in a weird way.

“Hmph.” The blond had to bite back a laugh at his lover’s irritation. “And you? Are _you_ well?” Ignis’s tone softened, warming Prompto from the inside despite the weather. “Last night…”

“I told you, I’m okay—honest.” Ignis didn’t comment right away, waiting for Prompto to turn the key in the lock as they reached the door to their apartment.

“You cried,” he said when they finally stepped inside, shrugging out of coats and shoes. “I fear that we went too fast—”

“Woah, woah, hold up,” Prompto had placed a finger to Ignis’s lips to silence him. The blind man now waited, hands in his pockets. Strangely enough, the former advisor looked like a child that had just been scolded, shoulders rounding inward in dejection. “I told you I was ready, remember? Why are you blaming yourself? Iggy, I knew it was going to be hard, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Besides—practice makes perfect, right?”

This time, when Prompto made an attempt at light-heartedness, it shone through.

_This has never been your fault. I’ll be damned if I let you feel guilty. _

“Very well.” Ignis still sounded unsure. Unwilling to let doubt linger, Prompto took Ignis by his hands and led him into their bedroom, fingers reaching to unbutton his shirt and pants. “Prompto…” the man began to protest, only to be cut off by Prompto’s tongue sliding into his mouth, hungry and wanting. With a hum, Ignis relaxed, allowing Prompto to shower him with his affections, the two somehow making their way onto the bed amidst a tangle of sheets.

“Let me take care of you for once,” Prompto growled from where his lips dragged along Ignis’s inner thigh.

“You have been caring for me for years,” Ignis insisted, but he obeyed anyway, legs splaying to give Prompto access.

There were no tears when Ignis was pushed over the brink of pleasure, only laughter and whispered ‘I love you’s, fingers intertwining.

Despite the hour they fought sleep to enjoy each other’s company a while longer, listening to the sound of rain as it began to fall outside. On the cusp between dreams and reality, Prompto focused on the feel of Ignis’s tender caresses along his skin, body loose and satisfied as they laid pressed together.

“Ignis?” Prompto muttered, barely audible.

“Yes, my love?” 

“Can we sleep in tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“And make breakfast, and eat it in bed?”

Ignis chuckled. “Certainly.”

“And have sex again?”

“If you want, I would find it agreeable.”

A pause, breath deepening.

“Even if the sun never rises…I’m glad I found you.”

_In the darkness, there is still light._

Ignis kissed Prompto’s brow and the blond could feel the upward curve of lips on his forehead.

“Likewise.”

They drifted off, dreaming of brighter days.

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after. <3


End file.
